


Love is an Open Door (Two Would Be Redundant)

by afterandalasia



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: disney_kink, F/M, Hans Being Less of an Asshole, Hans Fix-It, Hans Has Feelings, Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, Other Fandoms Not Mentioned in Tags, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unintentional Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:59:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the worst of men can fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is an Open Door (Two Would Be Redundant)

**Author's Note:**

> From a marvellous anon [prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/9516.html?thread=6209324#t6209324) at the Disney Kink Meme.
> 
> Small references to Snow White, nothing really important.

Hans hears that the gates were finally opening at Arendelle. His brothers do not want to have to go to a small kingdom, an isolationist little spit of land in the midst of a great cold swathe, but Hans can see a flicker of opportunity amidst it all. The word _finally_ catches his attention. It means _change_ , means _difference_ , means... well, _opportunity_.  
  
It is not until he airily agrees to go that his brothers start to eye him cautiously. They, at least, have learnt that he does not do foolish or whimsical things.  
  
Arendelle is, indeed, cold. Cold and white and brilliant, and Hans cannot help but rather like it. There is something about the way that the snow hides so much while seeming so perfect that rather amuses him. One could say calls to him, if one were feeling rather fanciful.  
  
It is only in his nature, or at least in the nature which he has carefully cultivated and pruned like a fine rose, to be polite to the young woman whom he stumbles across down at the docks. The fact that she is attractive and forthright does not, he tells himself, have anything to do with it. It is simply what Prince Hans of the Southern Isles should do.  
  
He does not expect her to be Princess Anna of Arendelle. Such a fortuitous meeting.  
  
When she smiles at him during the coronation, he actually finds it rather flattering. The person whom Hans has crafted himself into is as smooth as silk, and flawless as a mirror, much like the people that other princes try to portray themselves as. The fact of the matter is that Hans is simply _better_ at it. Unfortunately, being such a very good actor has the paradoxical effect of making him unmemorable to many. Most of the time, this is better, because it means that he is undisturbed as he makes his way through life, subtly carving it to his desires.  
  
But the way that Anna notices him sparks a curiosity in his chest.  
  
He meets her again that evening, at the ball, and scoops her into dancing without a thought. It is so useful to have the princess be so naive, he decides, and for her to be so candid that the thought of his own planned betrayal does not seem to cross her mind. She is less guarded than her older sister, and seems to expect less deviousness from people. It suits his purposes well to talk to her.  
  
And then, somewhere in the evening... things change.  
  
Anna is utterly guileless. Growing up among the intrigues of the Southern Isles, with his brothers always fighting and even the servants aware of the machinations of the court, Hans is not sure that he has ever met somebody so honest as Anna. Her idea of intrigue is stealing an entire plate of chocolates so that they can sneak into the gardens and eat them without having to share them with the other guests.  
  
And, possibly an even stranger sensation, she seems to think the same of him. As if she honestly _likes_ him. Of course, he knows that this is just a reaction to the face which he so carefully wears, but slowly, delicately, he starts to peel away the scales of his armour. He is not even sure why he does it, and that, above all else, is a novelty for someone for whom life has always been a carefully choreographed routine. But something about Anna makes him want to be impulsive, and as ridiculous as he knows impulsiveness to be, perhaps it would be better to indulge in it here than risk its resurgence back in the Southern Isles, where poison and hidden daggers are the trend _du jour_.  
  
It is done with great care, as he does most things. He makes reference to how much he enjoys spending time in other kingdoms; Anna responds with a wistful sigh and a declaration that she wishes she could see other lands. He says that he admires Machiavelli; she does not care, and says that she loves Joan of Arc. He allows a hint as to how much he resents his older brothers; her face falls, and she talks about her older sister in truly rueful tones.  
  
She is honest, warm... captivating. Like petals tightly protecting the nectar of a flower, Hans finds himself wanting to turn towards her - more than that, wanting to open up.  
  
And, for that matter, thinking in sweet metaphors rather than the callous, hard edges that he has been used to.  
  
"Can I say something crazy?"

 

 

When he proposes, to his own surprise he actually means it. Not only that, but the look of delight on Anna's face seems to mean that she is happy. Happy _too_ , Hans realises, because it has been a long time since he has felt happiness spreading through his chest like the warmth of a hot meal after cold, but it is undoubtedly the sensation he feels now.  
  
He kisses her hand, and wishes that he had actually thought to bring a ring. He had not really thought that it would be as fast as this - or anything like as real.  
  
  
  
  
  
She goes to find her sister, and after everything that Elsa has done Hans is astonished that Anna would do such a thing. He certainly would not. Go to stop the winter, perhaps, but to save one of his brothers? Unthinkable. And yet he finds that he quite admires it in her, and wonders whether she would be willing, one day, to do the same thing to save him. It is a strange thought, that someone might be willing to do something for him, selflessly.  
  
She returns as cold as ice, her hair turning white before his eyes, shivering and shaking. "Kiss me," she says, and it is a plea that Hans does not understand as she hangs around his neck and the servants excuse themselves from the room. "Hans, you have to kiss me."  
  
"I don't understand," he breathes.  
  
"An accident... frozen," her lips are turning blue, and she shakes so much that he can hardly speak. He expects his response to be resentment, that he has once again had what he wants torn away from him, but instead he actually fears for her, and mourns a million fragments of what they might have been. "True love. I need you to kiss me."  
  
Love. Could he really love her? It is not something with which Hans is particularly familiar. His father did not particularly care for any of his sons, they certainly did not care for each other, and Hans's mother frankly resented that none of her sons were the favoured of the King or likely to rule.He had seen love in the way in which Anna went to search for her sister, and he wonders whether he might feel the same. Whether he might be willing to do something selfless, for possibly the first time in his life, for Anna.  
  
It would be easier to let her die. The Queen safely locked in the dungeons, the Princess dead, and the whole town having heard that Anna left Hans in charge. So simple, to say that they spoke their wedding vows, and the Kingdom would most likely pass into his hands with barely a murmur. It would be so easily; clean, compared to the bloody politics of the Southern Isles.  
  
But he does not want Anna to die.  
  
He chooses selflessness. "Yes," he breathes, and presses a kiss to Anna's lips.  
  
Her skin is cold and stiff and she sighs beneath the kiss as he embraces her. For an infinite moment, their lips come together, then he draws away to see her whitened eyelashes flutter open again, and her eyes fix upon him. She smiles sweetly.  
  
"Anna..." says Hans.  
  
Then Anna shivers again. The white is still in her hair, the blue on her fingertips, and her smile turns to a look of bewilderment as she glances down at herself. "But they said..."  
  
"No!" Fierce anger bursts through him, that whatever Anna had been told was a lie, that he cannot save her. Cannot foil some plot, create some diversion or some political intrigue that will save her life. "No, you- she-"  
  
Somewhere in the castle, there is a distant boom, and the room shakes. He catches Anna before she can fall, and looks to the window as it rattles in its frame. Snow whips past, so thick that the ships beyond cannot be seen.  
  
"Elsa." Anna's breath is a puff of steam. "I have to go to her."  
  
"No, Anna, you have to stay in the warm." He will stoke the fire, have warm food bought, he-  
  
She tries to squirm from his hold. "I have to _go_ to her."  
  
The unsaid words: _if it is the last thing I do_. He supposes that the least he can do is honour her wishes.  
  
  
  
  
  
The snow is so thick, and the wind so strong, that he cannot stop her when she slips from his grasp again. "Anna!" he shouts into the wind, afraid for the safety of someone _else_ , almost thinking that he would take her place if it would save her.

It stops. Suddenly, like a blow, the snow still hanging in the deathly-still air. Hans wipes the frost from his eyes to see Anna a frozen statue, Elsa clinging to her neck, the Duke of Weselton on his ass on the snow looking in bewilderment at his shattered sword.  
  
And then Anna breathes again. The world is set to right, and Hans smiles, truly smiles, for the first time in a great many years.  
  
  
  
  
  
The Duke of Weselton's bodyguards are standing over the body of their master with looks of mixed determination and bewilderment. Anna stalks over to them with a grim look on her face, and Hans hurries after he in case something ridiculous is about to take place.  
  
She punches one in the face so hard that he pitches over the side of the boat. Worriedly, Hans is about to intervene as the other turns towards her and reaches for his sword.  
  
She knees him in the groin and, eyes watering, he falls to the deck. Despite a wince of sympathy, Hans can't help but laugh. Anna just looks so pleased with herself.  
  
  
  
  
  
Elsa finally accepts that he may court Anna. He had almost forgotten that was the aim of this visit in the first place. But when Anna runs to him and embraces him, her head against his shoulder and her hands clinging tightly to him, he feels as if his arms fit around her, as if by some ridiculous notion there really is a fate which has intervened.  
  
He is even invited to remain in Arendelle, which produces the marvellous effect that he does not have to return to the Southern Isles again. Hans cannot say that he misses the kingdom, and accepts graciously. Even Queen Elsa offers him a smile at that point.  
  
It rather surprises Hans to realise that what he wants most of all is Anna, in his life and happy. Considering he has wished the opposite on just about everyone that he has previously met, this is a curious finding. He is not at all sure what to make of it.  
  
Until, that is, Queen Elsa approaches him and says: "Prince Hans, may I ask your advice on a matter of trade?"  
  
It turns out that in Arendelle, one does not need to kill and scheme to acquire influence. Hans will accept the compromise.  
  
As for the Duke of Weselton, well, that is a most unfortunate matter. They sadly cannot prove treason, and Queen Elsa does not wish to go to war. Fortunately, the Duke is known for his distaste of Arendellen ships, despite the fact that they are widely considered to be the safest craft on the water. His son, whom Hans once met and drank with at a less-than-official state function, is a very sensible and pragmatic gentleman who rather cringes at his father's behaviour.  
  
Princess Anna and Queen Elsa know better than anyone how accidents can happen when ships are at sea. He comforts Anna, and says that he is sure that the Duke is now in a better place.  
  
As far as he is concerned, Davy Jones's locker is, after all, a better place for the old toad. But he does not voice that part.  
  
  
  
  
  
A week after he has proposed to Anna for the second time, had his proposal accepted for the second time, and been blessed by Elsa for the first, Queen Grimhilde of Epval makes the mistake of sending a threatening letter to Queen Elsa. An unthinkable slight, and Hans still knows many people. It turns out that, rumoured sorcery or no, Queen Grimhilde as vulnerable to any to a knife through the heart. Personally, Hans finds the equality of it all quite reassuring.  
  
Grimhilde's stepdaughter, Snow White, turns out to be a much kinder young woman, and really quite sweet. She and Anna get on admirably, and trade is as much improved as the relationship between the two countries.  
  
Hans sees no downsides.  
  
  
  
  
  
They are married at midwinter, at Anna's request, and Hans does not see even a reason to deny her. They say their vows beneath the aurora borealis, and Anna kisses him so intensely that there are some sniggers from the watching nobility.  
  
Normally, Hans would not appreciate the show of emotion; emotion is, after all, weakness. But Anna smiles so coyly that he does not care.

 

 

Their first child is a son. In the Southern Isles, it is common to use family names, and an unspoken rule that the father is the one who names the child. But Hans has nobody whom he needs to flatter, and nobody that he particularly wants to remember.  
  
He looks to Anna, and smiles.  
  
"What do you want to call him?"


End file.
